


That Thing You Do

by Erisabesu (ErisabesuFic)



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: 1880, 8018, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-12 23:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20572697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisabesuFic/pseuds/Erisabesu
Summary: “It only takes a few hours in Yamamoto’s presence to notice that the man has an unconscious habit.” [2009.07.17]





	That Thing You Do

**“That Thing You Do”**

◊

It only takes a few hours in Yamamoto’s presence to notice that the man has an unconscious habit.

Hibari watches from the sidelines as Yamamoto flicks a shiny gold coin in the air and catches it before passing it to the Italian street-urchin on the corner, exchanging it for the day’s newspaper. Later, Yamamoto pinches the last bite of crust from his luncheon Panini, tosses it up and catches it in his mouth before the two of them clear their spots and leave the downtown café for the meeting. And finally, Yamamoto rolls his box-weapons up into the air like deadly dice before his deft fingers snatch them and release their powers.

Yamamoto’s sword alone is enough to obliterate the Mafiosi who have refused his offer of negotiation, choosing backhanded threats in a remote alley in what Hibari could warn them is a complete and utter mistake. Hibari doesn’t have to do anything. He doesn’t even have to be there, Yamamoto is strong and reliable enough to corner these ugly rats right in their own territory and dispatch them with a brutal beauty all his own. As usual, he does it in a way that won’t reflect badly on Vongola’s Tenth, although Hibari does fault him on principle for using the back of his blade and sparing their worthless lives.

Hibari has witnessed enough throughout his association with Yamamoto to know that for whatever reason, Yamamoto can not resist the urge to pick up objects at random and palm them from one hand to the other, or lob them into the air and catch them again. Apples, cufflinks, extra clips to his Beretta, the TV remote—anything hand-held becomes a toy loaded with unending entertainment in a game with flexible rules and a range of difficulties to match any and every possible situation.

Hibari knows Yamamoto is capable of a wondrous stillness. That he can merge into the shadows of an abandoned warehouse and stay motionless for hours, instincts honed to the same invincible perfection as his Shigure Souen Ryuu. Hibari has felt Yamamoto use this same patience and discipline to disguise his presence and lie curled beside him through the night, without waking his slumber or triggering the reflex reactions that have broken noses and chipped teeth in the past.

Of all who have played Hibari’s “quiet game”, only Yamamoto has managed to succeed. And now, as impossible as it may seem, Hibari finds it unacceptable and unsatisfying to fall asleep without the comfort of knowing that Yamamoto is there to watch his back. In this Mafia-ridden world, they each have drawn a bit too much attention; only the weak let down their guard.

So while at times Yamamoto’s unconscious habit can be annoying, driving Hibari to the limits of his endurance as they spend a rare evening relaxing on the sofa, with Yamamoto flicking peanut after peanut into the air and then gobbling them, Hibari does not, in fact, bite him to death. Instead, Hibari ignores the distracting movements in his peripheral vision, and focuses only on his target. He ignores the sound of Yamamoto’s teeth crunching. He ignores the flicker of the TV screen and the voice of the Italian announcer introducing the sponsors of the baseball broadcast. He goes so quiet and still that Yamamoto will never, ever see it coming.

Hibari’s keen eyes and killer instincts zero in on the next peanut, flipped end over end in the air. While Yamamoto is still completely relaxed, Hibari snaps his hand to the side and covers Yamamoto’s mouth, then springs up to take the peanut for himself and swallow it whole—hard as a lead bullet squeezing down his throat.

The astonished gleam in Yamamoto’s eyes makes Hibari proud; if there’s one thing that sets his pulse racing, it’s reminding others exactly who has the quickest reflexes, and who will always hold the title of the Vongola’s strongest Guardian. If that doesn’t do it, then the way Yamamoto retaliates after such a challenge surely makes his heart pump overtime, those swordsman’s calluses of his put to better use and making it one hundred percent impossible for Hibari to hold still and deny him.

At some point Yamamoto’s bag of roasted peanuts spills over the side of the couch and onto the floor. Unfortunately this does not stop him later—clothing askew and skin coated in fresh sweat—from plucking a peanut off the sofa cushion, flicking it high up to the ceiling and then angling his mouth to catch it in what Hibari despairs is a total misuse of his innate athleticism.

Chewing loudly, Yamamoto grins at him. “Home run!”

And _then_, Hibari bites him to death.

—

Ω


End file.
